


Rules of engagement

by Buggirl



Series: May to September [9]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Vaginal Sex, rape mention/discussion, slight canon relationship divergence, suicide mention/dicussion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 05:53:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6411475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buggirl/pseuds/Buggirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>MacCready and Molly discuss the nature of their liaison, simple and uncomplicated sex with no strings attached, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rules of engagement

**Author's Note:**

> From a tumblr prompt that got out of hand - discovering boundaries/making rules

“So how’s this gonna work, Boss?” MacCready sat up in the bed, lit a cigarette and watched as Molly undressed. He’d been in bed, in their room in the Colonial Taphouse for the past hour, naked and entertaining himself by reading, drinking and smoking whilst she attended to some business with Piper.

“How is what gonna work?” She’d been wearing a simple clean laundered dress, and undid the belt and unbuttoned the top part of the dress down to the waist.

He took a long drag and flicked ash into the ashtray beside the bed. “All this, me working for you, me-- sleeping with you.”

She gave a muffled laugh. “Um, well, in regard to working for me, you do what I tell you to do because that’s what I’m paying you for. To watch my ass.” She pulled the dress over her head and folded it neatly over a chair.

“Oh that I’ve been doing from day one, keeping a close watch on your ass never felt like too much of a chore to me.” He glanced over her form. When he’d first met her she was curvy, but Wasteland malnourishment had taken a bite of her, not that too much had gone, but that vault suit wasn’t as formfitting as it once was. He still pictured her as she was when she first walked into the Third Rail, the jumpsuit tight against her hips and pinched at the waist, the zip straining at her bust. 

She shook her head and sidled over to the side of the bed, still wearing a slip, stockings and the rest of her underwear. She removed the heels that she’d been wearing and rubbed her feet.

“Why did you have to wear that gear again?”

“Because last time I tried to talk with the Mayor I was wearing my vault suit and raider armor and was dismissed the moment I walked in the door. The next time, I wore a dress, and I got exactly what I wanted.” She pulled the slip over her head and draped it over the end of the bed. 

“I guess you gotta make up for your gun skills somehow." He ran a finger down her bare arm. "And a bit of flesh helps."

She shot him a disdainful look. “It’s not a matter of showing off my-- assets, that dress--” She pointed to the dress hanging over the back of the chair. “Is lovely, and hardly revealing.”

“Suuuurre boss." He thumbed his ear as he spoke. "I saw how many buttons were undone. And that bra you’re wearing. Fancy. I’ve not seen you wear anything like that on the road.”

“Well you wouldn’t know. We've been doing this, what? A week? I doubt you’ve seen more than a fraction of my underwear collection.”

“But I’ve been travelling with you for longer than that-- I’ve camped out with you enough to notice these things. And that--” He pointed to her underwear, is something you don’t wear on the road.”

She shook her head. “Well I wasn’t paying you for fashion advice or to ogle me.”

He laughed and ran a finger from her arm to the small of her back. “Should I apologise then?” He smiled when she trembled under his touch.

She batted his hand away. “No, but seeing as you’re apparently one of the best shots in the Commonwealth--"

"Damn straight I’m one of the best. If not the best." He took a swig of whiskey from a glass sitting on the side table.

"Then you can teach me how to shoot straight. You can’t ogle when you’re instructing me."

MacCready grunted. “You’re paying me extra for that right?” 

Molly tilted her head and smiled. “Of course.”

"And, err, you sleeping with me? How’s that gonna work, Boss?"

Molly rolled her stockings down and ignored the question. 

MacCready shuffled forward and undid the clasp of her bra, his hands snaked around her waist and over her breasts. He laid a chin on her shoulder. "Huh? What are we doing here?"

She put her hands over his. "This is-- just a fling. I mean--" she laughed. "Look if you think this is inappropriate then maybe we should think about not doing it."

He kissed her shoulder again and squeezed her breasts. "Inappropriate, I'm not sure what you mean."

She rubbed the side of his head as he continued to kiss her. "Before the war, if a boss and subordinate began relations, it was deemed inappropriate. The power dynamic, the unprofessionalism, all deemed out of order, frowned upon by the establishment. If I had done-- this-- with someone under my supervision, in my position-- I’d lose my job."

MacCready’s hand snuck down over her stomach and traced a finger on the inside of the waistband of her underwear. He felt her stomach shiver as he did. "Look around Boss. Where's this establishment you're speaking about? Who cares about professionalism? If someone's frowning, it's likely they saw your assets and knew you were coming here to this room. This room where a mouthy little mercenary was lying, half-hard thinking about you. No such thing as inappropriate in these circumstances." His hand delved lower and between her lips to find her clit. "If this ever gets complicated, we can call it off, okay? Inappropriate has little to do with that."

Molly moaned and leaned back into him. “I just don’t want--” She moaned again. “I-- to cause--” She placed her hand over his and removed it from her underwear then turned and faced him. “I have a job to do, and I have to find my son. I don’t need complicated. I don’t need this to become problematic. Are we on the same page, MacCready?” she said slightly breathless.

MacCready smiled and leaned back. “Yeah, yeah of course we are. I don’t know what page you were on though.” He watched as Molly stood and turned her back to him, picked up her slip, stockings and bra and placed them over the chair. He gave a quiet sigh. He didn’t need this job to get muddy. He needed the caps, he needed-- one more favour before he could go. He wasn’t sure that it wouldn’t become difficult and was beginning to think that she didn’t do simple and uncomplicated relationships easily. Aside from her manner, the easy way she kissed and fucked him, there was nothing straightforward about her-- a dead husband, a missing son, along with two hundred years of fucking complications he didn’t think he needed.

She turned back to him, gave him a weak smile and pulled her underwear down and off, throwing them off to the side. She dived into her bag rummaged around and pulled out a stimpak and injected it before walking around to the other side of the bed.

“You injured?” he asked.

“No,” she said and shook her head. “Around 6 months ago I went to see a doctor - not long after I came out of the vault. He gave me these stimpacks he said would-- they have contraceptive chem infused with them. I take them once a month.”

“Ahhh right, I heard about them. Cost a few caps from what I hear. But, I don’t blame you for not trusting the Jimmy Hats.”

“Not just that, I mean it’s one thing to trust an ancient condom, even though they seem to be amazingly preserved, but the last thing I want is to be is pregnant with some assholes baby.”

“So I’m an asshole am I?” he said with a smirk.

Molly’s eyes widened and her mouth fell agape. “Oh-- no, um no I didn’t mean you, I meant I’ve been scared of being captured by Raiders or slavers. It terrified me even. I--”

“It’s okay, Boss, I don’t think I’d want anoth-- I don’t think I’d want to get anyone pregnant.” He bit his lip. He hadn’t told her about Duncan, not yet and now wasn’t the time. “Come here.” He patted the bed beside him. “You’re right though I am a bit of an asshole.”

She sat kneeling on the bed next to him and draped her arms around his shoulders and shook her head. “No, you’re not.” 

He gave her a wry smile and wrapped his arms around her torso and motioned for her to sit astride his lap. “Oh I think I very much am.”

She kissed him, her lips soft, uncomplicated. His hand moved down to sex, she was already aroused he could easily just slip his cock into her, forgo the foreplay, instead he rubbed her clit roughly and watched her eyes close and the rest of her face relax. She moaned as he inserted one then two digits inside. His other hand rubbed her thigh skirting up her side then back down. One of her hands moved to the back of his neck to play with his hair the other rubbed up and down his shoulder and upper arm. She kept her eyes shut tight, and he surveyed her face as she fell further into bliss.

Fuck, he could get used to this, watching her fall like this, watching her bite her lip then the semblance of smile form at the corners of her mouth, pouty wet and red. He observed her concentration as she focussed on her own pleasure and the closer he watched the harder he became until he was sure his cock had morphed into steel.

He took his hand from her thigh, grabbed hers still playing with his hair and moved it down to his cock. She opened her eyes then, pools of blue grey stared at him and she smiled a contented smile.

Her hand was as soft as her mouth looked. She moved it gently up and down his shaft and he smiled as he stared into her eyes. He could see a measure of complexity in her gaze. Combined with a soft smile and the way she tilted her head, he could see the wheels turning. Was she thinking -- ‘this asshole, I gotta take what I can get’, or was she thinking forgiving and more generous thoughts about him?

_Shit._

Right at this moment he felt a duel happening. Between the feelings he had swirling in his head and the feeling he had pooling in his groin. Head to head so to speak. He’d share the pun if he could, but that would be too much like telling her he had feelings for her, he wasn’t sure that it was true from his side of the arrangement. And if she viewed this as a simple job, a simple agreement to release some tension then he dared give nothing away on that front. That would be too much like-- like trust.

He just needed to remember the caps she was paying him to stick around and if he just fucked her, these thoughts might leave him. But before he could act to position her it was as if she read his mind, she sat up, moved forward and held him at her entrance adjusting herself so she could slide on to his cock, she did this painfully slower than he would have liked. He felt her slickness as she slowly took him in and he placed his hands on her ass and let her set the pace-- a slow steady rise and fall. He kissed her chin and neck then reached up with a hand and tilted her head so he could kiss her lips. She responded by parting them willingly, tongue ready to meet with his. 

She sped up her pace and leaned back far enough that he could run his hands down to her breasts and lick and suck the nipples. He liked her soft yielding flesh, a contrast to his skin and bones. He liked it when she ran her hands run through his hair, her nails tickling his scalp. He liked the noises she made, almost always quiet and whispered like the whimpering noise she made instead of a moan as her tempo increased. He liked the way she smelled and the smoothness of her skin in delicate places. He wrapped his arms around her torso tight and leant into her shoulder smothering it with kisses and moaning into her delicate, freckled skin.

She slowed her movements again and he felt her tremble and whimper. 

Fuck, the sounds she made when she came was enough to set him off, he loosened his grip on her as she plastered her hands on the sides of his face and kissed him as he still moved inside her.

“Did you come?” he asked breathless but not spent.

“Mhmm,” she replied and nodded her head.

“Good.” He kissed her before flipping her onto her back. He was rough, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her thighs; his movements vigourous and hurried. The noise of flesh on flesh reverberated around the room and her soft chorus of a repeated 'yes' made him come faster than he would have liked, but damn if he couldn’t stop himself from falling. He gave a series of short groans before pulling out and rolling off her, shuddering through the remnant of his orgasm. She lay next to him breathing heavily.

“Sweet Grognak’s axe,” he exclaimed and turned his face to her. “Was that inappropriate?”

“Very,” she replied without looking at him.

“Then I guess your jobs in jeopardy, Boss.” He laughed loudly and put a hand on his stomach. 

She turned on her side to face him. “No laughing matter, employee. This is serious business. This kind of conduct might see your job in trouble too.”

He ran a hand over the swell of her hip. “Somehow I think I’m worth a second chance.” 

She gave him a weak smile and he watched as she got up from the bed and walked into the bathroom. He grabbed another cigarette and poured another glass of whiskey for himself. He could hear a soft muffled sound emanating from the other room, and he was sure it was Molly crying. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Dammit,” he muttered and was about to get up and go to her when she emerged and slipped back into bed.

She pulled the sheet up around under her armpits and when he glanced at her face he could see a hint of tears in her eyes.

“Uh, you know, Boss. If this—if you’re having second thoughts about this--”

Her bottom lip curled over the top and she held out her hand. “Pass me the bottle, MacCready.”

He passed over the whiskey, watched her uncap it and take a generous gulp.

“Woah, Boss. Might want to take it easy, you’re not really a drinker and this is rotgut stuff.”

She wiped her mouth and handed it back to him. “From the moment I left that damn vault I’ve had second thoughts about everything. I doubt every decision I make, I vacillate on the smallest of things, including what I’m going to eat or drink that day, where I’m gonna take a piss, where am I going to sleep so I don’t get raped and murdered in slumber. I’m fucking sick of it.”

“And you wonder why I smoke?” He offered her a cigarette.

She shook her head. “Some days I think it would be good to crawl back into the cyro chamber. Say my last goodbye to Nate as I fall asleep, and pray to god that no one ever unfreezes me.”

MacCready’s eyes widened. “Shit, really? You think doing that?” Even in his darkest hours, he’d never thought that, never thought on removing himself from the world in anyway. Maybe an innate selfishness on his part, or maybe he’d just not reached the limit that she had. He too had a dead spouse, and now a child with a death sentence. But he knew if that couldn’t tip him, there wouldn’t be much that could.

“Those first few months, yes, quite a lot. When there was no new leads on Shaun, when I felt like a damn bug, squished by the heel of life. Don't worry, I haven't had that thought in months.” She gave an unhinged giggle before putting her hand out again. “Bottle.”

He hesitated when he handed it to her but she grabbed it from him before he could pull it back.

“I might cry after sex, but damn, at least I’m feeling something. Better than nothing at all right? I’ve had that before, where you’re so numb to everything, even having what people think are negative emotions feels like a win, like you might actually emerge from the other side of a fog.” She took another swig, leaned forward and spluttered a cough, the liquor obviously catching the back of her throat.

He laughed a quiet laugh and patted her back. “Hey, who hasn’t cried after sex once in their lives?” He laid his cigarette to one side and took the bottle from her hand and put it back on the side table.

She sat back and folded her arms across her chest. “So in answer to your question, no, I’m not having second thoughts about this.” She turned and placed a hand on his cheek. “We’re good. I want to fuck and be fucked in return. Simple, uncomplicated. Make me come, make me squeal and whimper and cry, make me feel like there’s no goddamn Wasteland out there, MacCready. Can you do that for me?”

His smile was wide, the idea of simple, uncomplicated sex, he’d had that before. In this instance the added advantage was she had connections, she had a determination-- she could-- she could help him. He put an arm around her and drew her in close. When she nestled in against him, he could smell a mixture of peppermint and whiskey. He kissed the top of her head. “Yeah sure. I can do that.” 

However, he couldn’t shake the feeling that, on her side at least, this wasn’t as straightforward as she made it sound. 

He ran a thumb across his bottom lip and grabbed his cigarette still burning in the ashtray, took a long drag and hoped that it would remove a growing doubt before it could take root in his mind. If he wasn’t convinced about her reasons, he sure as hell knew his own were far from simple and uncomplicated.


End file.
